Former Vikings scat back/quarterback Fran Tarkenton, the man with the most masculine football name ever, recently sounded off on the idea of former hated Green Bay Packer quarterback Brett Favre signing with the Vikings. You can read, or listen, or touch yourself, to the full (see: real) transcript here.
Hearing what Franny had to say was interesting for a number of reasons. First of all, he provided a unique Vikings Alumni view on the Favre situation, as well as perspective on the issue from a former franchise (term used loosely) quarterback.
Secondly, and most importantly, the interview really showcased some pent up aggression that Fran had towards Favre that seemed really hard to pin point. Why does he hate this man so much? Is he stealing Fran’s glory as a Black & Blue QB? We were granted a follow-up interview with Fran to have him address some of these issues, and the answers he gave us proved to be startling …
“Yeah, this whole Brett Favre knot slobber fest makes me fucking sick. It’s beyond despicable when you have a guy that is willing to sign with an arch rival after a decade plus work with the home team. What a fucking tramp. I know I went over most of this in my recent interview, but I just can’t get over it. And my stomach isn’t churning because I’m just viewing this as a business decision, no. It’s making me shit hot lava at night because of how this hurts my heart so much.
Fuck you Brett Favre, when are you going to let me suck you off.
I’ve waited years for you to go into retirement. When you told the Packers you were hanging up your sweaty jock strap I thought ‘Finally! We can hold our secret rendezvous somewhere in Mississippi and just get pig-rolling dirty on each other!’ It would have been fantastic, you glorified fuck bucket. I’d hold you while your eyes swelled with tears, thinking about the last pass you ever made. I’d tell you retirement won’t be all bad, and reach down to massage your tender bicep. I’d whisper that when one door closes, another one opens, while placing my hand gently on your hip. And then I’d ask if you’d be ready for a little Organized Team Activity, while the lights dimmed in our Super 8 pay by the hour room.
But no. Your pompous ass decided to hold visions of grandeur and gallivant off to the big city of lights, looking for a Broadway Joe cock to suck while your fragile psyche was doused with more praise than ever needed. And did any of those popular figures support you in your time of need? No. Did anyone offer a deep body massage in the New York locker room? Of course not. While you were choking on one last gasp of breath, instead of something larger, I was sending you text messages of encouragement and anticipation of our unspeakable meeting. While Peter King was offering his rectum without a fight, I was writing you anonymous letters of wild sexual escapades where you could dominate me only after a solving a series of fiendish puzzles, each one harder than the last.
But it wasn’t enough for you. Are you teasing me Brett? Are you toying with the built up anticipation that I’ve had for us for the past two years? You blue balling me, you fornicating football fuck? Is this news of you signing with the Vikings a stab at the heart of dick wad Green Bay fans or a killing blow to my brittle heart? You fucking cock tease smear of Santorum. Sign with the Vikings, Brett, I god damn dare you. When I’m pleasuring myself to game footage of you, it’ll just provide me with an even more explosive orgasm as I get to watch your rocket arm in purple. I don’t care anymore.
You think you can just keep on un-retiring and escaping my waiting grasp? Think again, anus king. I will wait until the sun goes cold. I will outlast your aging arm. I will hunt you down on your farm if I have to, to get my turn to warmly take you in my mouth. And then, Brett, the real learning experience will begin. Take it from me; I’m a retired quarterback.
So yeah, I’m a little fucking upset that this coming out of retirement shit is going on again.”
Add The Sports Daily to your Google News Feed!
